


The Language of Love

by XinRui



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Language, Language Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 16:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6477160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XinRui/pseuds/XinRui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Precious has a thing for French, so here is Tony with a language kink.</p>
<p>Also if my French is wrong, please feel free to point it out!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Language of Love

French is the language of love, or in Tony’s case, the language of sex. 

Steve picked up French when he was in Europe; it came in handy. Now he was just being cruel.

The first time Tony saw Steve speak French was when he watched footage of his fight with Batroc. Steve’s challenge, On va voir, sent a shiver of lust down his spine. The rasp to his voice, the excellent pronunciation… Plus, Tony had “A Fish Called Wanda” level of attraction to polyglots. Could you blame him? Everything sounds sexier in a language you can’t understand.

The next time he heard Steve speak French, they were in the kitchen of the Avengers Tower. Natasha was brushing up on her French and Steve, the ever-so-helpful Captain, was obliging. Tony’s grasp of French was basic; Pepper had always been the master (and it was hot when she spoke too). 

Tony tried to hide the blush creeping to his face with a big gulp of coffee. He ended up choking, nearly burning his mouth on the scalding liquid. Steve raised an eyebrow at him, and Tony scampered away, mumbling excuses.

Steve, clever bastard that he is, figured it out eventually. They were alone, cuddling on the couch and watching a movie, which just so happened to have French. During the confession scene, Steve turned to Tony. “Love confessions sound so much more beautiful in French, don’t they?”

Tony swallowed, wanting to keep his cool. “S-sure, I guess.” 

“You don’t think so?” Tony shrugged, avoiding eye contact with his boyfriend. Leaning close to whisper into his ear, Steve slowly enunciated in perfect French. “Je t’adore. Je t’aime.” Tony shuddered, a moan slipping unbidden from his lips. Steve nibbled on Tony’s ear, pulling their bodies together. 

They had sex right there on the couch, Steve using his French to proclaim his love in one moment and whispering what Tony could only assume were dirty things with a smirk on his face. 

After that, Steve was incorrigible. He’d whisper French in his ear at breakfast until Tony was squirming and needed to be excused. He’d say a sharp command on missions to get Tony hard in his suit. It was unfair, really.

Which is why it was completely and utterly Steve’s fault that he couldn’t sit still during their press conference. After they responded to an attack on Paris by Dr. Doom, SHIELD sent them to hold a press conference with the French media. 

Steve, as Captain America and leader of the Avengers, was answering questions in a serious tone and a serious expression, so why was Tony so hard? At this point, he wouldn’t be able to stand up without drawing attention in his fitted suit. Tony bit his lip, silently wishing he was still wearing the armor.

He tried to think of something, anything else. How stupid Doom’s cape looked, the upgrades he planned, even the board meeting he had next week, but nothing drew his attention away from the flow of French from Steve’s mouth. 

Tony loosened his tie slightly, body beginning to feel overheated. When was this stupid conference over?

There was polite applause and Steve stood, followed by the rest of the team. They looked tired from the battle, relieved to be done with this. All except Steve, that is. Steve turned his head to give Tony his most devious smirk, then led the team out of the room. 

That bastard.

—

They were not going back on the Quinjet with the team. They were not going to debrief with Fury back at SHIELD. No no no.

Tony grabbed Steve’s arm and dragged him to a private car he’d hired with a few taps on his cellphone. “Tony? Where are we going?”

“We’re going to a hotel,” Tony snapped. He shoved Steve into the car, then clambered on top of him, shutting the door. Steve looked over Tony’s shoulder and said, “Conduisez, s’il vous plait.” Tony groaned softly, happy the car began to move. 

He tugged Steve by the hair, crushing their mouths together. “Evil,” Tony whined, grinding his hips down. Steve moaned softly, hands flying up to grip at Tony’s hips. “I actually…didn’t expect it to… affect you,” Steve gasped between fervent kisses. “You smirked at me.”

Steve kissed Tony’s neck, biting down gently. “Only after I saw how red your face was, how you were wriggling in your seat. You were practically begging me to fuck you,” Steve whispered. In retaliation, Tony ground down again, earning a sharp moan from Steve.

“You know, Tony, we’re in Paris. Maybe we should take a vacation… It will give me the opportunity to speak French as much as possible. You’d be hard all day, on the lookout of the Eiffel Tower, when I ordered our lunch… then I’d take you back to our hotel and fuck you? Aimerais-tu cela?”

Tony moaned, rutting against Steve. “No,” he protested weakly. “Tu es sûr, mon chéri?” Tony moaned a little louder, writhing against Steve. “D-don’t call me that,” he hissed. He felt like he was going to come in pants, cock hard and throbbing in his trousers. “Mon chéri,” Steve said softly, sucking a hickey onto Tony’s neck “Steve.”

The car came to a sudden stop. The driver said something and Steve slipped out from underneath Tony, opening the door. Tony gave chase. He needed Steve to block his bulging erection from anyone who might want to snap a picture. 

Steve was at the front desk already, speaking French to the clerk who handed him a room key with a smile. Tony marched over, catching the end of their conversation. He tugged at Steve’s shirt, pleading with his eyes. Steve said something to polite, grabbed Tony’s hand, and the two practically ran to the elevator.

As soon as the doors shut, they met in the middle, crashing together like a tidal wave of desire. Steve backed Tony into the wall of the elevator, reaching for his top buttons. A sudden ding sent them bolting apart, smirking at each other as an elderly couple got on the elevator. Tony couldn’t stop grinning because Steve wouldn’t stop looking at him. 

When the couple disembarked, they were on each other again. Unfortunately, the elevator was fast enough to prevent any real action. They fast-walked to their room, laughing and hushing each other softly.

Steve fumbled for the key card and Tony took his chance. Wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist, he began to rub at Steve’s erection through his pants. Steve’s breath hitched slightly and his hands trembled as he struggled with the door. Throwing open the door, he dragged Tony inside.

Tony was thrown onto the bed, then pounced on. Perched above with a predatory look in his eyes, Steve ripped open Tony’s shirt, sending button flying across the room. Tony gasped, delighted that finally, finally Steve was just as impatient as him. “Tu es très coquin,” Steve told him.

Tony remembered that one. Naughty. His retort was lost as Steve leaned down to bite and suck Tony’s nipples. “Please, please Steve,” Tony begged, yanking at his shirt. Steve wrenched off their clothes, throwing them behind him. “Tu veux que je te baise?”

Do you want me to fuck you?

“Yes,” Tony whined. Steve grabbed the hotel kit from the nightstand, nearly crushing the boxes in his eager grip. He managed to free the lube, liberally coating Tony’s hole and his fingers. 

Tony could tell Steve was desperate. There were two fingers in him, stretching, coaxing him open in half the usual time. Tony didn’t mind. He just needed Steve. Right now.

Steve grasped Tony’s wrists, pinning them to the bed above Tony’s head and pushed in. Tony wailed, muffled by Steve’s mouth on his. So hot, so big and already thrusting inside him. Tony gasped for air against Steve’s mouth, moaning as Steve quickened the pace of his thrusts. 

He chanted Steve’s name like a prayer, overwhelmed yet begging for more. “Je t’aime, Tony,” Steve said into his ear, fucking Tony with no restraint now. 

Those words always sent him over the edge. Steve declaring his love in French made Tony cry out and spill onto his stomach as Steve followed. 

They fell to the bed together, hands entwined. Steve pecked Tony’s lips, repeatedly, but gently. “Je t’aime…. je t’aime…”


End file.
